


About Identity (and Arson)

by hypnoshatesme



Series: Somebody to Hold [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (Among other things), Aromantic Gerry, Asexual Michael, Gen, Minor Character Death, Platonic Cuddling, Trans Gerry, and relationships, and they talk about, fuck if i know what this is, identity and labels, there's also fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: Gerry gets a new coworker. They vibe, they talk...that's about it.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Series: Somebody to Hold [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913047
Comments: 12
Kudos: 63





	About Identity (and Arson)

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes you need to write your own comfort content and nobody can stop you.

"So yeah, that's about it, really. I know it's a little messy here but you'll get used to it. Don't hesitate asking if you have questions." Gerry turned around to his new coworker as they reached where they had started their little tour. 

Michael had been eager to listen as Gerry showed him around and now had that expression of slight panic on his face that comes with feeling overwhelmed after being given a lot of new information at once.

"Uh, okay." He nodded vigorously, some of the curls that had come loose from his ponytail bobbing with the movement. "I...I think I should be fine. Thanks for showing me around."

Gerry shrugged. It wasn't like Gertrude would have done it and letting the new guy get helplessly lost in the archive sounded unnecessary. "No worries."

Gerry walked back to his desk and after a moment, Michael went to his own.

*

It was nice to have company again. Gerry wouldn't admit it if asked, but he often found himself wishing there would be somebody besides Gertrude to talk to in the archive. He didn’t mind the workload - though he quickly realised that things did move a lot faster with Michael’s help - but the work was dull and Gertrude only had so much tolerance for his jokes and idle chatter. 

Michael seemed to enjoy it. Gerry hadn’t been sure at first as he kept to himself, seemingly trying to be as quiet as he could be, ducking his head whenever he did have to ask Gerry something. He always did so in an apologetic tone and it took a couple times until Gerry managed to make him understand that he wasn't being a bother, that he didn’t mind Michael talking to him. 

Michael had opened up, then, slowly, and soon enough the silence they worked in was less tense, more amiable and they'd talk on occasion, often about what they were working on, sometimes just about the quality of the coffee in the break room that Michael drank despite not liking coffee because the tea there was apparently even worse. It was nothing groundbreaking but it made work overall more pleasant.

However, weeks passed without Gerry seeing any notable change in Michael’s demeanour. Usually Gertrude had the whole explaining the Fears talk with the assistants after a week or so. But with Michael two weeks passed, three, a month and Gerry knew she hadn't told him yet. Michael treated each statement he had to deal with with respect, but he clearly didn't understand the overall picture. It put Gerry off.

*

"Uhm, hi."

Gerry looked up from his laptop, coming face to face with Michael. "Hi, everything okay?"

Michael was worrying his lip awkwardly. "Yes, I just...I was wondering if you'd like to...uh, grab a drink after work? Or something?"

Gerry was surprised, to say the least. Sure, Michael seemed to enjoy his company, often staying longer than he needed to when Gerry lingered. Still, Gerry had somehow never considered there being any interest in meeting outside of work. He also couldn't really tell what exactly Michael’s intentions were. His face was red and he was avoiding Gerry’s eyes. Was he asking Gerry out on a date or something? Gerry couldn't be sure and he felt the usual awkwardness whenever somebody was trying to hit on him.

"Oh, uhm...well...is...do you mean like, a date?" He ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch Michael’s eyes. "Because I…I don't really...date. I'm aromantic, sorry."

Michael’s eyes went a little wide. "Oh! No I...I just meant in a friends way. I...is that weird?" He was wringing his hands, expression apologetic. "I guess usually people go out in groups but uh...I don't really...have one. I don't think Mrs Robinson would join." He said the last part with a chuckle, but it had a slight edge of panic to it.

Gerry laughed, a genuine, short laugh. "Now that's an image." He gave Michael an apologetic smile. "But no it's okay I just...didn't want there to be some kind of misunderstanding." 

Michael nodded. "I understand, thank you." Michael smiled. "But I uh...I didn’t mean it like that. I'm...just like this." He sighed, giving a weak shrug, leaving it to Gerry to imagine what ‘this’ was referring to. "But i thought it might be nice? To get to hang out outside of these walls."

Something about his tone made Gerry think that Michael was probably starting to notice the Eye’s heavy gaze. He found himself curious about whether Michael would be less shy outside the institute. There was really no harm in meeting up, was there? Michael was already involved in this mess, associating with Gerry couldn’t really make things much worse.

"No, no, it sounds like a good idea,” Gerry said with a nod. “Tonight?"

Michael's smile was one of relief. "If I can finish my follow ups on time…"

"I'm nearly done with mine, I'll help you with yours."

Michael looked shocked at that, and Gerry half-expected him to tell him to not bother, that it wasn't necessary. Instead, Michael mumbled a 'thank you' with an excited nod before going back to his own desk. Gerry watched him hurry back to work with a small chuckle.

*

Neither of them had much of an idea where exactly to go, so they ended up in a pub Gerry suggested because it was at walking distance from the Institute. Gerry wanted to ask Michael whether Gertrude had talked to him but he knew she hadn't. Michael's eyes looked too much like they had before. Oblivious. So he avoided it. 

Gerry was unsure what else to talk about. Michael was silent himself at first but soon they found some generic questions to start off the evening. Gerry has a certain fondness for smalltalk even if just because he rarely got to talk about his favourite music and hobbies that didn't involve burning Leitners. Though he guessed that was part of his job, rather. 

He went out occasionally and sure, he'd chat with people, but it was usually clear where the conversation would lead. This felt different. Michael didn't seem to be trying to get anywhere specific and Gerry just leaned back and allowed himself to enjoy a relaxed evening of just chatting to his nervous coworker that was a little less nervous outside of the Institute. Though Gerry still occasionally caught his eyes moving across the room nervously.

Michael was playing with the black ring on his middle finger while he talked and Gerry had been wondering about it ever since he had noticed it. He hadn’t seen any other jewelry on Michael besides it. 

"Is that an ace ring?" Gerry asked, finally giving into his curiosity.

Michael took a moment to understand, blinking rapidly. "Huh?” Gerry watched as the words registered and understanding became clear on Michael’s face. “Oh, uh...yes, it is." He gave Gerry a shy smile.

"I was always a little jealous you got the black one," Gerry joked, taking a sip from his glass.

Michael tried to hide his chuckle behind his hand, "I guess white wouldn't fit your aesthetic, huh."

"I don't think I'd wear one if it would, to be honest." He shrugged. "I've worn these purely for aesthetic purposes for so many years...even before I realised it was aro." He wiggled his fingers, most of them possessing one ring or another.

Michael shrugged with a smile. "To each their own."

Gerry eyed him curiously. "You're surprisingly...unsurprised about me not being ace, too. People tend to assume that right away."

"People like to assume many things right away and I never liked that, so I always try not to do so."

Gerry grinned, tipping his glass towards Michael. "Sound mindset."

"Thanks." Michael returned the grin before sipping his own drink.

They were tipsy when they parted ways and Gerry felt content. He happily agreed when Michael suggested repeating the evening eventually. After his work trip the next week. Gerry looked forward to it but also wondered if that trip would be when Gertrude would tell Michael about the Fears. It didn’t really make sense to do it outside the safety of the Institute, but it didn’t make sense that she wasn’t telling him in general. Gerry was worried.

She didn't tell him. Michael came back tired, but clearly fine. Unless he was just really good at pretending, but why would he do so? They went to the same pub and this time, Michael told Gerry about his trip and while Gerry gladly listened he couldn't stop thinking about why Gertrude was taking so long. Gerry decided he had to confront her about it. Something was clearly wrong.

It took a bit to catch her while not busy, but Gerry persisted until, nearly another full week later, he finally managed to ask.

"Why aren't you telling Michael what's going on?"

Gertrude finally looked up from the files she was going through. "Gerard, I warned you to not get attached."

Gerry frowned, but didn’t accept the distraction. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It was an idea. I thought this way he would more quickly follow through with whatever plan I end up having for him."

"Gertrude, that's cruel."

She leaned forward, looking at him intently. "Is it? I don't think it's that different from telling him and having him live with that knowledge until the inevitable Fear-related end."

Gerry stared at her, unbelieving. He knew Gertrude, had known her for quite some time, had spent many hours travelling and talking and planning with her. This still seemed like particularly cruel, even for her standards. And Gerry knew she knew. He could tell that that excuse wasn’t for her, but for him. If she had thought he’d accept it, she had thought wrong. He got up from the chair he was sitting in. 

"I'm going to tell him, Gertrude. He can help us with this." He didn’t need to specify, her eyes narrowed in understanding.

"Gerard, I had considered it. He might be of more help oblivious."

"You mean of more  _ use _ .” Gerry shook his head, trying to keep his tone even. Anger wouldn’t do anything, he knew. “I'm not having it. Even if he's not helping and only going to be used as fodder, he deserves to know what he'll be dying for."

"I can't stop you." They both knew that wasn’t quite true, but Gerry trusted her to not try, at least. "At least tell him to try and pretend obliviousness. It might come in handy," she added before going back to her files, ending the conversation.

Gerry nodded, "I will," and left the Archivist’s office.

*

When Michael and Gerry met up the next time they went to the same place again and the evening went similarly. Michael seemed a lot more at ease talking now, though when they went silent he would still look around somewhat nervously. Gerry had assumed it was him, or rather, the whole situation that made Michael nervous sometimes but maybe it was the bar? He was studying Michael's uncomfortable expression when his view was suddenly blocked by another person, who was trying to aggressively chat Michael up. 

Gerry felt like uncomfortable had been too strong of a word for a moment ago,  _ now _ Michael looked thoroughly uncomfortable. Like he wished for the world to swallow him whole.

"I'm sorry, I...I'm not- uh I don't…," he spluttered, panic clear in his eyes as he leaned away, the woman following the motion slightly despite Michael shaking his head. 

Gerry's eyes narrowed as his patience was starting to run thin watching. He hadn’t wanted to get involved, Michael made his answer pretty obvious, but apparently it wasn’t quite getting through. Gerry gently tapped her shoulder. It took a moment for her to register, but eventually she did turn around, coming face to face with Gerry.

"I think he made his ‘no’ quite clear."

Gerry’s voice was neutral, and so was his expression. She still froze quickly, whatever comment had been on her lips dying as she saw him, her irritated expression smoothing into one of nervous surprise. Gerry was used to that expression, but it was rare that he felt this satisfied by seeing it on somebody’s face.

"Oh, I...I'm sorry. I didn't notice you- uh..." She glanced back at Michael and there was a disbelieving frown on her face before she apologised to them again and moved away. Michael watched her go with relief, but he was still tense even after she disappeared in the crowd.

"Do you want to go outside for some air?"

Michael’s eyes fell back on Gerry and he nodded with a tired smile.

He took a deep breath of cool air as soon as they stepped outside the bar, relaxing a little. It didn’t last long, his face turning worried again when he looked at Gerry. "Sorry, I think she assumed we were-"

Gerry waved the rest of the sentence away. "Don't sweat it. People assume you're a couple the moment you vaguely stand in the same room."

"True…" The little smile on Michael’s face was wry.

A few seconds passed in silence before Gerry broke it. "Do you feel any better?" 

Michael hesitated before nodding. "Yes…"

Gerry raised an eyebrow, looking into his tense face. "Not very convincing."

Michael sighed. "Well, to be honest I don't really like places like this on my best days but today...I'm just having a bit of a bad time."

Gerry bit back the question about why he agreed to come here again, then. It wouldn’t really be helpful. Instead he decided to ask, "Do you want to go home?"

"No, I...somewhere more quiet would be fine? A walk?" He looked incredibly guilty for even suggesting it, though Gerry didn’t know why. A walk sounded fine to him, though it might get a bit chilly for Michael eventually.

"I live close by if you want?" he decided to suggest. 

Gerry had been wondering how he’d get Michael to come over since he had talked to Gertrude. If he wanted to tell him about the whole Fear business it would have to be at his place or the Institute, and he would prefer his apartment. He hadn’t necessarily planned to do so tonight, but he guessed Michael was already antsy, so he couldn’t really make his night much worse by doing so.

Michael looked surprised. "Oh, I mean…if you don't mind?"

Gerry gave him a reassuring smile. "I don’t. It’s a ten minute walk or so, so we’ll still have the walk, too.”

Michael nodded with a smile and they went back inside to get their things.

The walk was silent, but not uncomfortable. Michael seemed a lot more at ease as they left the noise of the pub behind them, even if he did look a little nervous when Gerry got his keys out.

“If it’s messy, I apologise. I rarely have people over,” he mumbled, unlocking the apartment door.

“No worries.” Michael gave him a nervous smile before following Gerry into the apartment.

Michael tried to not stare too obviously as Gerry led him to the bare living room, motioning for him to sit on the couch. Everything looked so...empty. Like Gerry had just moved in, except not really because the few items in it looked well-used and Gerry moved through the apartment with the kind of familiarity that came with having lived in it for a while. 

“You alright?”

Michael blushed at the realisation that he obviously wasn’t being as inconspicuous as he had hoped, and nodded. "Yes, I...just- I've never been in a minimalist apartment…"

Gerry chuckled. "I mean I think I have too much stuff to call it that. But I try to keep around as little as possible. Job's had me move on short notice more than once." Gerry decided not to mention the fact that it had also gotten his past apartments burned and taken over by bugs.

Michael frowned, looking at Gerry in confusion. They hadn’t talked a lot about personal life, but the way Gerry talked about the Institute Michael had always assumed he’d been working there for quite some time. And considering his age, it had never occured to Michael that there had been a whole lot of different jobs before that. But that didn’t make sense with what Gerry was implying.

"You...your Institute job?"

"Yes," Gerry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He had to get this over with. "I need to talk to you, Michael. About work."

Michael sat up straighter, panic clear in his eyes. "I...okay?"

"I'll make us tea," Gerry mumbled before disappearing into the kitchen.

Gerry started with the basics, because that’s what made the most sense, as much sense as any of it made. The crease between Michael’s eyebrows deepened, but he did not interrupt, nodding when Gerry asked if he was following. Gerry was a little sceptical, but he didn’t want to push, so he moved on to what he had been doing all his life, about stopping, or at least pushing back the damage the Fears were doing. And lastly, the Institute’s role, Gertrude’s thoughts and plans about the fact that it was planning something big and how they were trying to stop it. 

The silence that followed when he was done stretched on and Gerry had half a mind to ask Michael if he could have his tea since the blond hadn’t touched his mug and Gerry’s throat felt dry even though he had finished his own drink. He didn’t know how much of it was because of the actual talking.

"So...we're stuck?" Michael said, softly, and Gerry took a good moment to figure out what he was talking about. 

Of all the things, being stuck working for the Institute didn’t strike Gerry as the thing to get hung up on, but he nodded. "Yes."

"And Mr. Bouchard...is the...he's planning to do something? For...for the Watcher?"

"Yes."

"With the Institute?"

Gerry eyed him worriedly. Michael looked like he was having trouble sorting everything out. Maybe Gerry shouldn’t have dumped everything on him at once. He nodded again. 

"So….we have to destroy...the building, right?"

"I...the archive, yes." Gery frowned. Michael’s tone had shifted after another break, and Gerry couldn’t quite place it now. More...focused. 

He sounded curious when he started again, "What are you thinking of doing? Blow it up? Burn it down?"

Maybe more than just curious. Interested. Gerry raised an eyebrow. "You are surprisingly...on board? I'd nearly say...excited."

"Hm, well...it is exciting, in a way." Michael shrugged with a strained smile. “I...I need to sit on all the other things for a bit to process it. But...well, I trust you. If you say the Institute needs to go, I’ll trust you know what you’re talking about even if I’m still struggling to understand the overall why. I...this part is...it’s easier to grasp?” Michael sighed, picking at his fingers. “So for now…”

Gerry was shocked to hear that Michael trusted him, especially considering he had just found out Gerry had been keeping this from him for so long. But he didn’t want to push his luck, so instead he shook off the surprise and said, “It’s okay, you...I just was expecting...more of a...breakdown I guess?”

Michael huffed a dry laugh. “I’m sure it’ll come when everything catches up.”

“I’m sorry.” Gerry sighed, gently moving Michael’s mug towards him. Michael finally took it with a grateful smile. Gerry returned it with an apologetic one before continuing. "But you’ve got it right, yeah. Blowing up is what we are considering, Gertrude...well, she had experience with the stuff. If the foundation gets blown up…"

Michael stopped bringing his mug to his lips midway. "That won't make sure that it gets destroyed completely."

Gerry nodded. "Yes, that's one of the points we're still trying to figure out..."

They fell back into silence and Gerry watched Michael slowly drink his tea. He wondered if he was imagining the slight shaking of Michael’s hands.

Michael interrupted the silence after putting the mug back unto the coffee table. “I think I should go home.”

“I’ll bring you to the bus stop.” Gerry got up from the couch.

Michael quickly followed suit. “Oh, you...it’s okay, I think I know the way.”

Gerry shrugged. “I want to, though.” He took the mugs and brought them to the kitchen. There was no way he’d let Michael go on his own, even if he seemed to have taken everything surprisingly okay. He would bring him home, but doubted Michael would let him. Just not leave him alone, not like Gerry had been left again and again, to deal with all of this. He wouldn’t let that happen to Michael. 

Michael followed him to the kitchen, coming to a stop in the open door. Gerry looked at him with a somewhat forced smile. “Oh, and...Gertrude asked for you to still pretend like you know nothing.”

"I...i think I would have done so anyways." Michael returned the smile with a watery one of his own.

Michael didn’t know if it was the new knowledge or just the state it had left him in that made him want to walk quickly, even more so when passing particularly dark alleys. He could basically feel the impending breakdown that would set in whenever everything he had just been told truly settled. Not now, though. Michael wasn’t very fond of public breakdowns and tried to avoid them as much as possible. He was glad Gerry had insistent on coming with him, now. Their chatter was clearly strained, neither of them really thinking about whatever insignificant thing they were talking about, but it was still noise to distract Michael’s whirring thoughts.

“Thanks. For, uh...for everything, I mean.”

Gerry felt like he shouldn’t be thanked for this, but he could also feel how tense Michael got as the bus approached.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you home?”

Michael shook his head. “It’s...okay. Goodnight.” 

“Text me when you arrive at least.” With some hesitation, he added, “You can text me...in general.”

Michael hadn’t been too shy with texting in the first place, but Gerry knew that Michael understood what he meant. He nodded and gave Gerry a last smile before getting on the bus.

*

Things were the usual at work until they weren't when Michael now joined their meetings. Gertrude begrudgingly let him, though she seemed to warm up to the idea when it turned out Michael was just as eager to make himself useful when it came to destroying the Institute as he was doing his follow-ups. The progress was still slow, but it felt like they were moving along quicker with the new input. 

Gerry couldn’t quite bite back the self-satisfied grin. Maybe he didn't want to as it was met with Gertrude subtly rolling her eyes. Michael seemed confused about the whole exchange but did not inquire, bending over the blueprints on the desk instead. 

Michael’s and Gerry's off-work meetings also didn't go too differently. They'd usually avoid talking about that aspect of work and would just spend the evening chilling out on Gerry’s couch, pubs abandoned, or take a walk. Gerry didn’t mind that personally and Michael looked a lot more comfortable.

Or he usually did, tonight he seemed antsy. Not for the first time, Michael seemed like he wanted to talk about something but didn't. Gerry never pushed. Maybe he was just nervous about the execution of their plan being close.

It took a while before they had a usable plan that might work out, but Gerry still felt like the day came earlier than he had expected. Both of them had been quite silent today. Michael had been even more fidgety, glancing at him occasionally.

Gerry finally decided to ask, "Something on your mind?"

Michael seemed to consider for a moment before sitting up. “Can I ask you something uh...personal?”

“Sure." Gerry tried to keep his expression neutral, unsure if he was succeeding in hiding his genuine surprise at that question. They had started to talk a bit more about their lives since Gerry told him about his - or at least the Fears-related aspects, which was most - but the way Michael was speaking made it sound like this was apparently something he wasn’t really comfortable with asking. Gerry wondered what that could be.

Michael bit his chewed his lip for a moment longer, hands starting to pick at his shirt, before he asked, “How did you realise you were aro?”

That hadn’t been what Gerry expected hearing. He frowned. It wasn't the first time Gerry had been asked something like that, but it was the first time the tone had no mockery or suspicion in it. Michael sounded genuinely curious, and also maybe a little hopeful. 

Despite having been asked some shade of this question plenty, the answer never got any easier. Gerry ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "Hm...I guess it's just the lack of interest? First I thought it might be because with my life it would simply be unwise and my mother kept me pretty busy so it wasn't like I had that much time to really think about that." He rubbed the back of his head. "But uh...even as I did start to have a bit of space it just...was never really something I wanted? I don't know it just...I see cute couples outside and my reaction has basically always been ‘good for them’ rather than ‘wish that were me’ you know?” He sighed. “I don't mind romance, I might even enjoy it sometimes, I just...don't want myself to be part of it, to be involved."

"Thats how I feel about sex." Michael mumbled, letting himself fall back into the couch. "But with...with romance. I don't know? I found it more difficult to pin down…"

"What do you mean?"

Michael wrecked his brain for how to explain it. Not for the first time, he didn't really come up with anything satisfying. He still tried, "Well it's a bit like-" he shook his head, sighing. "No, nevermind."

Gerry watched Michael’s frustrated expression for a moment. He looked like he had been turning this over in his head for a while with little success. Gerry knew that feeling well. Michael probably just needed somebody to listen to sort things out. "No, go on. I'll listen."

Michael gave him a nervous glance but seemed to warm up to the idea after Gerry smiled reassuringly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, starting to get restless with his own fidgeting. "I wanted to say that it's a bit like how I feel about gender in that I find the margins too unclear to really care? But that doesn't really work." He sighed. "I...I tried dating and I...did care. I didn’t...well maybe it just weren't the right person-"

Gerry shook his head. "Wrong path to go down. That's what everybody tells you, isn't it?"

Michael looked surprised for a moment, before smiling sadly. "Ah well...i guess you probably hear the same…"

Gerry nodded and returned the smile. They fell into silence for a moment, both following their own thoughts.

"Is 'he' okay?" Gerry decided to ask, because he knew he’d been wondering about that sentence later if he didn’t. And Michael looked like he might do well with a momentary distraction from the current conversation.

Michael looked back at him, snapping out of his reverie. "Huh?"

"Well, I've been calling you ‘he’ and you haven't said anything but if you'd prefer something else-"

"Oh, no I...I never cared much about the pronouns. I grew up being teased for looking like a girl and they'd call me ‘she’ to mock me but I don't think I really minded. Or if I did then...well, not for long." He gave a shy smile. "I only really feel uncomfortable when people try to group me specifically into terms like ‘man’ or ‘woman’. Honorifics are horrible for that and I...I just try not to look at them." He was mumbling by the end, not used to speaking this out loud. At least not when he wasn’t alone. He could feel his cheeks heat up. It felt silly saying it.

But Gerry didn’t laugh, only watched him for a moment before asking, "Have you ever tried something like ‘they’?"

Michael looked confused for a moment, trying to reconcile the lack of mockery he had been expecting with the reaction he ended up actually getting. "I...I like it.” He looked at Gerry, surprised to not find anything in his expression that would suggest he wasn’t being anything but genuine. “But I-I don't mind the others either. I switch around sometimes when I'm talking about myself, but I don't mind that most people just settle for ‘he’." He bit his lip, unsure if he hadn’t said too much now, but unable to stop himself now that he had started. "I'm content until the honorifics come in, really," he finished with an unsure shrug.

Gerry studied him for a moment, before asking, "Do you want me to switch for you, too?"

Michael eyes him intently for a moment, still uncertain about his unexpected reaction. "However you want. As long as you don't start using honorifics, I'm fine." Michael chuckled, a little awkward. He wasn't used to telling people about it. He just let them decide whatever to call him and rolled with it. It was strange to have somebody ask, to feel like what he was feeling was worth considering. Michael wasn’t sure he liked it, but Michael generally disliked foreign situations, so maybe it was just that. It did feel nice to not be judged while talking about this, he guessed. He had always liked how Gerry managed to make him feel at ease talking, but this still seemed different. Gender wasn’t a topic Michael had ever felt he’d be able to talk about without being judged before.

Gerry smiled. "I don't particularly like those myself, so no worries." 

This time the silence that fell was a little lighter. Still, Gerry didn’t want to cut off the conversation from before. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I kind of sidetracked this conversation. You were saying you tried dating but didn't like it?"

Michael brushed a curl behind his ear, regretting having mentioned that already. Why had he started this whole conversation in the first place? "Well I...I liked some of it? But the...it felt so...suffocating? I didn't...I wasn't comfortable? I think...thought part of it was the constant awareness that my partner wasn't ace and I was worried about that. I, uh, I found myself wishing they'd find somebody else, somebody better. Maybe even while still dating me,” Michael was mumbling, he knew, but he could also feel his face warm and he didn’t dare to look at Gerry. There surely was also an end to his patience. “I know it's silly. I...it might not have worked still. I don't know. I just...I liked holding hands and cuddling occasionally? But the...thought of it being in a romantic context kind of...bothered me the whole time." Michael finally looked up, worrying his lip in frustration, nails digging into his arms. "I can't- I can't explain it, I'm sorry. I just-"

Gerry shook his head. "It's okay, Michael. It made you uncomfortable, you don't need to explain why or what exactly it was. Or even know that yourself." It had taken Gerry long enough to realise that emotions just weren't rationally explainable. Watching Michael struggle this much made him want to somehow make Michael understand that, too. But Gerry knew that it was a process and he himself wasn’t quite where he wanted to be with it himself. Still, he needed Michael to know it was okay and he tried to catch his eyes before saying, “It’s enough. To feel uncomfortable. No need for analysis.”

Michael ran his hands through his hair, but the relief at finally seeing him let go of his arms was short when his fingers seemed to twist into his curls painfully. Gerry was starting to seriously consider reaching out to make him stop, but he also didn’t want to interrupt Michael. 

"I tried to just push it down but...well, eventually I was just...disassociating basically. I…" His voice lowered to a whisper and he ducked his head. "It also just got uncomfortably...touchy. I think that didn't help." 

"Touchy?” Gerry’s eyes narrowed. “They knew you were ace?"

"Yes, I just...well, I wasn't sure how much I was comfortable with otherwise? So I agreed to try and I...sometimes I would just be...gone? Before I could tell them to stop. And then I...they were so disappointed when I told them I'd rather not have that in retrospect and...I could just...feel that they missed it and really weren't enjoying themself as much and I...tried. Until...well, until I couldn't anymore and just...closed off. And then it ended." Michael was whispering by the end and Gerry really wanted to give him a hug, though that didn’t quite seem appropropriate. He had no idea what  _ would _ be appropriate, though. At least Michael’s hands had let go of his hair.

"That sounds fucked up, Michael,” Gerry tried, and his voice sounded too loud all of a sudden. “They shouldn't have pushed after you said-"

"I know, I know. But I should have also stood my ground-"

"Not an excuse.” He shook his head. “You were clearly uncomfortable."

Michael let out a deep sigh and pulled his knees up, hugging them close. He felt like he was saying much more than he ever intended to say, and he wished he could stop but it seemed that now that he started, he couldn’t. He guessed there was no real point in doing so, by now Gerry knew enough to judge him for the horrible, pathetic person he was. There was no going back, so Michael might as well at least get everything off his chest.

"I…I think one of the reasons it was so difficult to stick yo my boundaries was...i'm just so touchstarved and I...when I said something at first they stopped touching me altogether and I missed it, just...just having an arm around me or somebody playing with my fingers. Just...hugging. I don't know. I didn't want to lose that. It...it was what I was liking in that whole arrangement. That and having somebody to talk to and hang out with." He sighed, and buried his face in his knees. He was still far too intelligible when more words spilled out. "I just wish I could do all that without it having to be romance or even a kind of...well, stiffly labeled relationship? I hate that everybody tries to push me in that direction. I don't...I don't like that idea. Something about it freaks me out. I just...i just want to be able to hold somebody or be held without it being a whole…thing. Just...a friend, I guess? Without it being weird, you know?"

Gerry didn't say anything for a while and Michael desperately wanted to look up and face judgement and also do anything but. He was holding his breath, though he wasn't exactly sure when he had started doing so.

"I do know," Gerry said gently. "Come here."

The tone wasn't what Michael had been expecting, and neither were the words. He looked up without realising. "What?"

Gerry was holding his hand out to him. "Come on, nobody is watching to judge this as anything you're not comfortable with."

Michael wasn't sure he understood, but he moved closer, hand tentatively reaching out to Gerry’s outstretched one. Gerry pulled him closer until Michael was leaning against his side and Gerry could wrap his arms around him. Michael waited a couple heartbeats, tense in the sudden embrace, before allowing himself to relax a little.

"Uh...you...I didn’t mean that to sound like- I mean you don't...have to."

"I'm not doing this out of obligation. I wanted to hug you." Gerry gently rubbed his shoulder and Michael let himself fall further into the hug with a soft sigh. "As for what you described….sounds like you might be aro to me."

Michael pressed his face into Gerry’s chest. "I'm just...afraid, I guess. Of being wrong. Of...honestly even of just labelling myself in general." Another sigh. "Asexual was easier. It...it was just such a clear fit…and even then...ever since I started using it people have been scrutinizing me in that aspect, expecting me to slip up somehow. Sometimes I wish I'd never decided to come out."

Gerry frowned. "Well, even if you find out you are aro you don't have to call yourself that. From experience even if you use the word people won't take you any more seriously." He took Michael’s hand, intertwining their fingers. "Maybe less, to be honest." He chuckled, dryly.

Michael chuckled, too, squeezing Gerry’s hand. "I know a thing or two about that."

They settled back into comfortable silence and Gerry leaned his cheek against Michael’s head, sighing pleasantly.

"I think I just feel like I'm too old for all this." Michael whispered, "The gender thing had been bothering me for years but I only recently really started getting a grasp on it? And this...I've been trying to understand it for a while but still…" He ran his thumb over the back of Gerry’s hand, "I was in my mid twenties when I started to realise something might be wrong-"

Gerry's hand stilled on Michael’s arm, squeezing it gently. "Nothing's wrong." 

"Yes, sorry." Michael tensed for a moment. He still slipped up sometimes, no matter how often he tried to remind himself that nothing was wrong about how he felt. "Something might be...different." He straightened up a little, glancing up at Gerry nervously. "It doesn't help that I do find people aesthetically attractive. I've...I've been told the way I talk about some people I see on the street or something sounds like I want to go out with them. Or fuck them." The expected scepticism didn't make it onto Gerry’s face. Michael wondered if maybe he felt too watched to do it. He lowered his gaze again, biting his lip and trying to find something else to say. 

"Considering how long it took me to come to terms with being ace, I guess I'll accept I'm aro in my late 40s or something," he mumbled, hiding his face in Gerry’s shirt again. He had attempted to put some humour into his voice, but he just sounded tired.

"Well, you're a better judge of your feelings than whoever told you that. If all you feel is just an intense aesthetic appreciation, that's fine. You're allowed to feel whatever you feel even if it doesn't fit other people's expectations." Gerry sighed. It was all sounding a little too familiar. "And what about realising things in your late 40s? There's no age limit to figuring yourself out. I realised I was trans relatively early but the lack of romantic interest...I think I was in my twenties, too. Probably closer to 30s."

Michael looked up at him, a mixture of awe and surprise on his face. It was strange to hear that. Gerry seemed so sure of himself, so unshakable. It was difficult imagining him trying to figure himself out. Michael didn't know what to say, so he settled for, "At least you got it figured out."

"Who knows what the future might bring? I just know it fit then and it fits now." He shrugged. "I used to go as bi or pan just because i wasn't aware you can only be sexually attracted without the romance."

Michael was playing with the hem of Gerry’s sleeve. "I guess that's rarely talked about…"

"Yeah and like I said...the way life went...well, I just didn’t think about it as much, I guess. It took some time and research for me to get a grasp on it..."

"I'm glad you got there and found something you are comfortable with." Michael looked up at him and gave him a smile.

Gerry returned the smile. "You'll get there, too, Michael. And even if you just decide you'd rather not go by any labels that's fine, too." He brushed Michael’s hair behind his ear. "They're still for you first and foremost and if they make you uncomfortable you can just not use them. If you'd rather just explain things without labelling them."

"I do think I just like overexplaining myself instead," Michael grumbled.

Gerry chuckled, pressing him closer. "I think that's a feature of people who have felt severely misunderstood in the past."

Michael snorted, burying his nose in Gerry’s chest. "Don't call me out like that."

Silence settled again, a comfortable kind, Michael drawing circles on Gerry’s hand and wrist, enjoying the warmth of Gerry’s chest against his head, the steady heartbeat against his ear. This hadn’t gone quite like Michael had imagined, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain, not when Gerry’s hand kept running up and down his arm and back. Michael was starting to feel sleepy as they stayed like that for a while. Falling asleep wasn't a good idea. He should probably leave.

"Are we going to die? Destroying the institute?" he mumbled instead, looking up at Gerry.

Gerry returned his gaze. "It's a possibility."

"Then I'm glad we had this conversation now." Michael smiled.

Gerry laughed at Michael’s utter non-reaction to imminent death. "Can I kiss your hair?" Michael looked at him curiously before giving a nod. Gerry smoothed his hair and pressed his lips to Michael’s head for a moment. 

"It's not as soft as it looks," he mumbled as he pulled away, brushing away a hair that got stuck to his dry lips.

Michael laughed, looking up at him with crinkling eyes. "It tricks you like that."

Gerry smiled, running a hand over Michael’s hair before leaning his head against his again.

"Is this really okay?" Michael mumbled, doubt creeping back into his voice.

Gerry didn’t bother to raise his head. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Then it is. And if it stops being comfortable, you tell me, okay?” He looked at Michael’s face.

“I...I will.”

“Good.” Gerry sighed and buried his nose in Michael’s hair with a smile. “You don't have to name everything." He nuzzled Michael’s hair. "Sometimes you just want to cuddle a coworker turned friend and that's all there is to that and that's okay."

Michael heard him grin and his own lips tugged into a grin, too. "Okay."

He didn’t sound completely convinced. "You still sound like you're thinking."

Michael sighed. "I'll work on it."

"Good." Gerry squeezed him close, mumbling. "You might not live much longer, Michael. It would be a shame if your last nice moments would be destroyed by thinking too much."

"Story of my life." Michael chuckled. "Well except the dying soon part." He bit his lip. "I'm sorry i'm kind of using you as a therapist."

"You aren't. I told you I'd listen. I like listening to you and if I can help great, if not I'll still listen."

"Thank you." Michael smiled warmly. "I'd listen, too, should you ever need it."

"Mhm, I might come back to that." Gerry pressed his cheek against Michael’s hair. "Some other day though."

"Tired?" Michael sounded worried.

Gerry smiled. "Just quite...comfortable."

"Me, too." Michael stifled a yawn. "Maybe a little tired." He chuckled and Gerry hummed.

"It did get pretty late. Do you want to go?"

"Just...a little longer." Michael cuddled closer and Gerry chuckled, wrapping his arms around him.

*

When Michael emerged from the growing inferno that was the archive, Gerry was already waiting. They had split up, as planned, and Michael had had a longer way out, made more complicated by the parts that were already burning. Gerry’s tight face relaxed as their eyes met and he pulled Michael further away, grip tight around his hand. Even though Michael knew full well what was coming, he flinched at the explosion. His eyes were still watering from walking through the hot, dry air from the Institute, but as he looked around, he couldn't see the Archivist anywhere. He gave Gerry, who was still clasping his hand, a questioning look.

"Miss Robinson?"

Gerry shook his head, once. Michael stayed silent for a moment, trying to let that sink in. It wasn’t like it came as much of a surprise, they had been aware they might not make it. Somehow, Michael still had never considered the Archivist not to make it. She had seemed indestructible as Michael got to know her properly. Still, he wasn’t surprised it happened.

"She never intended to make it out, did she?" he mumbled, looking down at their hands.

Gerry hesitated, eyes lowering to their hands, too. "I'm not sure she could have. You...do you feel it?"

Michael thought about it for a moment. He had thought of the intense heat he had been feeling running through the Institute as coming from the spreading fire. But they were far enough from it now, and Michael could feel the chill of the night on his skin. But underneath, he still felt the heat. "The heat? The...The burning inside?”

Gerry nodded, squeezing his hand.

“I...I do.”

"I'm...not sure it would be just this for the Archivist."

Michael wasn’t sure he understood what that meant, but Gerry’s tone made the implication clear, at least. She wouldn’t have made it. "Oh…"

Gerry watched the flames lick at the building’s walls, making them sag and crumble. "We should go,” he mumbled, “Sooner or later the fire will be visible again."

Michael gave a stiff nod and Gerry dragged his eyes away from the Institute. He knew Gertrude wouldn’t make it out, it was pointless to stare. His eyes were burning.

They didn’t speak as they started walking away from the still burning building. Michael never considered letting go of Gerry’s hand and Gerry didn’t ask if his would be fine, as he usually did. 

They did finally let go of each other once Gerry had locked the door behind them. It took a couple tries, he didn’t know when his hand had started to shake. It still felt too hot. Michael let out a relieved sigh before letting go of Gerry’s hand, trying to detangle his hair from the hair tie with his own trembling hands. He was fairly sure the headache he started developing on their way had little to do with his hair being in a bun, but it still felt like the right thing to do, like the normal thing to do. His fingertips felt numb, like he had burned them - he hadn’t, he had checked - which made undoing the bun difficult. But he was glad for it, for having to focus on something so mundane and familiar. Gerry watched him, unable to decide whether he should offer help or not. He wanted to break the heavy silence somehow, but watching Michael was calming. His hair looked dark in places, and Gerry had burnt his own more than enough times during jobs to be able to tell that it wasn’t soot.

"You burned your hair," Gerry hadn’t noticed how dry his throat was until then. He frowned.

Michael nodded, finally managing to pull the hair tie out. "I guess I did,” he mumbled, gently running a hand over his hair. He could feel it, it crinkled under his fingers, brittle and even dryer than his hair usually was. It had been hard to tell what was burning inside the Institute. Everything had felt like it was going up in flames. Michael guessed he was lucky if it had only been hair that actually touched the fire. He looked at Gerry, whose arms seemed to look red. Then again, Michael’s eyes were hurting and he wasn’t sure how much he could trust them. “Will-” His voice faltered, and Michael cleared his scratchy throat before trying again. “Will you help cut it?”

Gerry looked unsure at first, but nodded. Michael sounded strangely far away and he wondered if he was whispering. “I think I...need to drink something first.”

Michael nodded and followed into the kitchen. They drank in silence, both wondering how it didn’t seem to soothe the burning they were feeling. Gerry looked up at Michael’s frowning face and he knew he felt the same. He didn’t say anything about it.

“You can shower first, then we can take care of the hair right away.” He put his glass back down. It felt hot against his fingers, but he knew the water had been cold. “I’ll see if I can find something for you to wear. You know where the bathroom is?”

Michael nodded, looking at his glass with an absent-minded expression, wondering how he could feel like he was burning up and cold at the same time. He decided not to think about it and make his way to the bathroom.

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Gerry looked at the golden - and partly blackened - curls spilling down Michael’s back with scissors in hand. This felt very different from cutting his own hair.

Michael nodded. “Just cut off the burned part. I’ll get it fixed if it turns out too bad.” 

He was used to bad haircuts. Usually the curls hid most of it anyways. He just didn’t want to draw any strange looks, which partly charred hair probably would. He also didn’t want to see it himself. He didn’t want to think about tonight.

Gerry nodded and got to work.

He left Michael to shower when he was done and found himself severely missing the distraction of having Michael beside him, just being,  _ breathing _ . Gerry put on some music, loud enough to feel the base. It didn’t really dull the burning sensation, but it did overtake some of it, which was welcome. He wasn’t thirsty but his throat still felt wrong so he drank some more. Vaguely, he could hear the water from the bathroom. Gerry closed his eyes and tried to focus on it through the music.

When Gerry joined Michael on the couch after his own shower, there were two steaming mugs of tea on the table and Michael still had that distant expression on his face. His hair was still dripping, the tips just brushing his shoulder. At least for now, it looked like Gerry might have not fucked up the cutting completely. He leaned into Michael’s side, snapping him out of whatever thoughts were keeping him. Michael smiled at him, and it looked tired, but real enough and Gerry returned it, taking Michael’s hand after Michael’s arm had found its way around Gerry’s shoulders.

“I made tea, I hope that’s okay.” The fact that Michael’s voice still didn’t quite sound right was trivial when the music was so incredibly loud around them. Gerry leaned his head against Michael’s shoulder, nodding. Neither of them made a move to pick up the mugs, didn’t move at all for a long while, until Michael decided Gerry wasn’t close enough and pulled him closer, and Gerry returned the tight hug, shuffling into Michael’s lap to make it less awkward of an angle. 

Michael was clutching onto him, fingers curled into Gerry’s shirt as he pressed his face into Gerry’s damp hair. Gerry didn’t mind. He was holding Michael tighter than was probably comfortable, too. It just felt like the right thing to do. Michael was warm and soft and alive and it made Gerry feel like he might be all those things, too, even if he felt hollow, burnt out in the most literal sense, the burning sensation still there, on the edges. But mostly, he felt empty and he was glad for the music that was making his head pound, scattering every thought that took form, glad for Michael holding him, keeping his body from slipping, even though Gerry wasn’t sure it could do that in the first place. One way or another, everything felt pleasantly muted and he hummed into Michael’s - his - sweater.

It took a while before they felt each other’s heartbeats calm, grips relaxing slightly, tension leaving their shoulders, their bodies. Michael sighed at how unreal this felt, at how far away earlier seemed. He felt, despite all, despite the heat that hadn’t fully faded, safe. The silence, however, was starting to make him uneasy. 

“Gerry?”

“Hm?”

Michael fully unclenched one of his hands from Gerry’s shirt and carefully ran his fingers down Gerry’s back. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but none of them now, all of them too close to what he didn’t want to think about. Michael tried for humour, though that had never been his forte. "Does this mean we're both unemployed?"

Despite his tone falling flat, Gerry chuckled and let himself slump into Michael’s chest, back against Michael, looking up at him. "I'm sure you'll find something else."

Michael looked at him and gently ran his fingers over Gerry’s cheek with a small smile. "What about you?"

Gerry closed his eyes at the touch, humming. "Well, my mother made sure normal life wouldn't be an option for me...I'll be back to hunting books by myself, I guess."

Michael frowned, tracing Gerry’s jaw. "That sounds dangerous."

Gerry only gave a shrug as an answer.

"Be careful,” Michael mumbled, squeezing Gerry for a short moment.

"Why did that sound like a goodbye?" Gerry asked, opening his eyes again.

Michael bit his lip, running his hands over Gerry’s arms. They didn’t look so red anymore, but they were still warm under Michael’s fingers, so he couldn’t quite decide whether he had seen wrong or not. "Well I mean...we won't be working together anymore, so...I'd understand if you'd want to stop hanging out."

Gerry raised an eyebrow and took Michael’s hands in his own. "Wasn't aware we were hanging out out of a sense of coworker obligation, Michael."

"No, that's not...I mean...it's...just less convenient I guess?” He sounded uncertain now, his thought process not making as much sense when put into words. Gerry’s thumbs were following his knuckles.

"Is it?” Gerry craned his neck to look up at Michael’s face. “We can just stay in contact, we have each other’s number. I’m sure we’ll manage to set up to meet up occasionally, even if we won’t see each other every day.” 

Michael was in awe at how easy Gerry made it sound. He wondered if he’d change his mind when it came to it. It didn’t sound likely. 

"I...guess that's true. I was just...worried," Michael’s voice lowered into a whisper as his cheeks warmed. He felt silly for having brought this particular doubt up now.

Gerry squeezed his hands with a smile. "Aren't you always?” He turned around in Michael’s lap so he could properly face him. “But this isn't a matter of convenience for me, Michael. You're my friend and I will make time for you when I can. Well, and you want to, of course," he added quickly, not wanting it to come off like he was saying Michel had no choice but be stuck with him.

Michael gave him a shaky smile and tugged his hair behind his ears. "I do want that. I'd be sad if we stopped seeing each other..."

"Well, then it's settled." Gerry’s smile was a little tired, but bright, making Michael’s lips pull up a little to try and match it.

“May I kiss your cheek?” Michael asked, fingers disappearing in Gerry’s hair, thumbs carefully tracing the shells of his ears.

Gerry nodded and closed his eyes as Michael leaned forward, gently tilting his head to the side to press his lips to Gerry’s cheek. He pulled away with a shy smile, watching as Gerry’s eyes fluttered open again and he graced Michael with a smile of his own, a little shy, mostly warm. Michael sighed and wrapped his arms around Gerry again, pulling him flush against his chest. Gerry buried his nose in the crook of Michael’s neck, sighing as he could feel Michael’s warmth much more clearly like this, now that he didn’t quite feel like he was burning himself anymore. He wrapped his arms around Michael and felt Michael’s cheek against his head.

They stayed like that, listening to the music - the song had changed, it was something drum-heavy now, which worked just as well for keeping their thoughts at bay. Michael felt sluggish as the rest of the lingering shock bled away with Gerry’s steady heartbeat against his own. He hadn’t realised how tired he was. He remembered not sleeping much the night before. And ‘before’ itself felt like it had been in another lifetime. He nuzzled Gerry’s hair. Michael couldn’t tell if the strange hollowness he felt was from lack of sleep or from whatever had been burning before. He didn’t have the mind to think about it now, so he let the flimsy thought go with a tired sigh.

"Do you want to sleep in my room? I think I have a spare mattress somewhere," Gerry mumbled. He knew he should probably ask whether he wanted to sleep over in general, but he was afraid Michael might say no. Gerry didn't want to be alone.

Michael took a long moment before answering, "I...would you mind me sleeping in bed with you?"

Gerry looked up, surprised. "Sure, I only didn't suggest it because I wasn't sure if...if you'd be...comfortable with that."

"I...usually don't like it but…but I think tonight I would like it." He mumbled and ran his fingers through Gerry’s hair. The thought of letting go of Gerry didn't appeal to him tonight. The anxiety of sharing the bed seemed like the lesser evil.

"Okay.” Gerry hid his face in Michael’s shoulder. “Just tell me if you change your mind."

"Thanks."

Michael was too tired to feel properly awkward about lying in bed with Gerry. Too tired and too comfortable as he lay in Gerry’s arms, enjoying the feeling of Gerry's fingers running over Michael’s hair, lulling him into a calm close to sleep.

"Gerry?" he whispered.

"Yes?"

"Would it be weird if I told you I love you?" He ran a hand down Gerry’s back. He was definitely too close to sleep if he was asking this. He quickly added. "I mean...platonically."

Gerry smiled. "No, it would be fine." He tucked Michael’s head under his chin. "I love you too, Michael."

**Author's Note:**

> ...this might get a part 2 because I fucked with the timeline to the point where I didn't get to explore the relationship much, whoops.


End file.
